The Crazy Life of Harry Potter
by Eagleshine
Summary: Harry's life is mess. He starts off as a nobody, becomes one of the most famous people in the wizarding world, then finds out his dad is the king of all gods and not James Potter, monsters and dark wizards are trying to kill him every chance they get, and he's apart of two great prophesies that both say he can either destroy or save the world. Can his life get any worse?
1. Chapter 1

The world seemed to spin around Harry as he watched Professor Quirrell turn to dust right before his eyes. Voldemort, the murder of his parents and many more, gave a sickening laugh, his ghost swirling around him. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the sound of soft footsteps getting louder by the second.

* * *

Harry's green eyes slowly opened, the bright sun shined into the room and forced him to close his eyes again. He felt so tired, he was pretty sure he walked around the world three times while battling Voldemort with his bare hands, which he actually did. After another minute or so, he opened them, the figures above him blurry. His hand immediately began to search for his glasses but he yelped in pain as he unexpectedly hit the side of a table. "Calm down, Harry," chuckled a familiar voice. Hermione was Harry's immediate thought. "Ron! Get the nectar and ambrosia and don't spill it!"

Harry sat upright at the sound of his friend's name and in the distance he could make out a flaming-red mess on top of a circle on an orange shirt and jeans. Excitement caused a smile to spread across his face at the mere blurry outline of the redhead. He got closer and gently pushed a cup and a small cube into his hands. The liquid that was now in his hand made him realize how thirsty- and hungry- he was and began gulping down the drink. Harry paused, letting the warm liquid flow down his throat. "It tastes like all the food at Hogwarts," he murmured out loud and then drained the rest of the cup.

Ron smiled, fiddling with his fingers. "Glad you like it. Once you can get up, you'll probably get a tour of the camp."

"Isn't that obvious?", scowled Hermione.

The other boy frowned, staring at the blurry figures in front of him. "Camp?", he asked and stared around the room. He had believed that they were in the Hospital Wing, but a camp? "Can someone get me my glasses?"

The redhead handed over his round glasses and he immediately put them on, ready to examine his surroundings. The room was mostly empty, not including himself and his friends, except for a unconscious or sleeping boy on our right. "Where are we?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer but a small group entered the room. I blinked and stared at the mix of familiar and new faces. The Weasley twins and Neville were among them as well as a blond girl snapping at them and a boy with goat legs. "Get out!", snarled the blond. "You three can't just barge in, you idiots! W-"

"Hey, Harry!", called one of the twins, casually pushing the girl aside, who looked so mad, smoke could've been coming out of her ears. "Welcome!"

"To Camp Half-Blood!", added the other, smiling at him.

"Camp Half-Blood?", Harry echoed.

"Yep!", they answered unison. "Best place for us demigods."

He continued staring, dumbfounded. "Will you two idiots get out?", asked the girl dangerously.

"Do we not get to say hi to our good friend?", Fred (or George), whined playfully.

"Fine, but you better not have the entire Hermes cabin ready to turn this place into a landfill," she hissed, stalking out with the goat boy following.

"We promise!", they called, smirking.

They turned towards the black-haired boy. "Don't mind Annabeth. Probably quite protective of her new boyfriend," one said, glancing over at the knocked out boy.

"Oh," Harry said. "Did you call us demigods?"

"Y-yeah," muttered a small voice.

Harry glanced at the one who spoke and found Neville nervously playing with his fingers. "Hello, N-"

He cut himself off as he caught sight of the furry goat legs that were where his legs should've been. "Neville! Yo-"

"Yeah, I know... I'm a satyr... or half-satyr. My mum was a witch and my dad was a satyr," he said, seemingly interesting his hands.

"What's a satyr?", Harry asked, feeling extremely stupid.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "A nature spirit, Harry. Half-human, half-goat. They age half as fast as humans but Neville ages two times faster than those of his kind."

"Oh."

Neville gestured towards the door. "Mr. D and Chiron would want to see you. We don't want to them waiting," he said, adding something that sounded like 'Especially not him'.

"Oh... okay..."

Harry stumbled out of the bed, Ron helping him stand up. Though it took him an entire minute to steady himself, he managed to follow the a lot less clumsy and a whole lot faster Neville. The minute they stepped outside, he could see a large, but unfamiliar, lake with canoes dotting the clear, blue surface. It was beautiful. An ampitheater was in the center of the grassy area with several buildings and several other things like a circular patch of dirt. Other kids that looked like they'd be sixth years. Horses, both winged and normal, gallopped along a trail with riders laughing on their backs. Some other kids of all ages, the Weasley twins among them, in orange shirts played with each other near a number of cabins near the woods that reminded him of the Forbidden Forest. At the edge of the porch stood two men at a table with the angry blonde- Annabeth- from before leaning against the rail.

The man facing the boys looked like an older version of Dudley with purplish-black hair and a tiger-patterned shirt. "That is Mr. D. He's the camp director so please be polite," he whispered. "The girl is Annabeth Chase, one of the campers from the Athena Cabin. The man in the wheelchair is Chiron."

Harry let the names process as he examined Chiron, the man turning. "Ah! A new player to join us in pinochle! Come over, Harry!"

Neville nudged him towards the table and Harry hesitantly headed towards the table. The older-Dudley-with-black-hair named Mr. D, glanced at him. He sighed and grumbled, "I guess I have to say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. I'd ask you to not expect me to be glad you're here."

Harry scooted towards Chiron, feeling uncomfortable near Mr. D. "Thank you?", he thanked reluctantly. Now Mr. D reminded him of Professor Snape, except he seemed like he was forced to act kindly to his students or campers in this case.

"Annabeth?", called Chiron.

She stepped towards him and glanced momentarily at Harry with narrowed eyes before looking back at Chiron. Just as he was about to speak, another voice joined the conversation. "Mr. Brummer!"

The handicapped man turned towards the voice's owner, a smile clearly visible underneath his shaggy beard. He followed his gaze to see a black-haired boy just a few months older then himself, another boy with curly brown hair and his friends- Ron and Hermione- leaving the house. The brown-haired boy retreated almost immediatly to Neville, who was standing nervously behind Mr. D. The black-haired boy however was still standing there, excitement and disbelief with a hint of sadness shining in his sea-green eyes, not unlike his own. "Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered Percy, as he was called, a chair in between Harry and Mr. D, who talked to him in the same way he did to him. After that, Percy pushed the chair away from the camp director and towards me. Chiron/Mr. Brummer glanced at Annabeth. "Now where were we... ah yes. This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy and Harry's bunks? We'll be putting them in cabin eleven for now."

Annabeth agreed and stared at Percy. He followed her gaze and he spotted a large horn that he was gripping tightly. "You drool when you sleep," she said.

I laughed at that and Percy sent me a sideways glare as she ran off. "So... You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?", asked an anxious Percy.

"Not Mr. Brunner," he replied. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Oh." Harry was 100% sure that Percy was as confused as he was. "And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?"

Mr. D belched- which was extremely Dudley-like- as he stopped shuffling the cards he held. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."

"But it's your name, right?", pestered Harry.

"What do you think?", he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes... sir... Yes, of course. Sorry."

"I must say, Percy," Chiron broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?", asked both Harry and Percy.

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, like Neville and Grover, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. Neville told me of Harry, a celebrity in his own world, as well. They sensed you two were something special, but since Harry already has so much on his shoulders, I went upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to ... ah, take a leave of absence."

He blinked. Was that why Neville had tried to keep them from saving the Philosopher's Stone? So they wouldn't die or get hurt? Suddenly, he felt extremely guilty for letting Hermione freeze him. He shook his head and decided to forget the feeling by listening to the conversation. "...We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test," Chiron was saying.

He then looked at Harry. "We also tried contacting your aunt and uncle. I'm not sure they liked the news."

"They don't like anything," Harry muttered miserably.

"Now, Harry, can any regular eleven year-old, wizard or demigod, be able to battle and defeat a troll, walk past a child of Ceberus without a scratch, be able to defeat the strongest dark wizard twice, _and_ make it out alive?"

"Ron defeated the troll," he stated, not stopping to wonder how he could've possibly known.

"But still, young hero. You did the rest with help from your friends. Be proud."

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed and noticed that Percy was staring at him, most likely thinking, _you did all that? And how are you? Eleven?_

"Are you playing or not?", Mr. D growled impatiently.

He frowned and nodded. "Yes, Mr. D."

He glared at us suspiciously. "You do know how to play pinochle?"

"No," was Harry's answer and Percy's was "I'm afraid not."

"Sir," he growled.

"Sir," they repeated, having shared feelings about the camp director.

"Well," he said, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."

Harry was pretty sure not all 'civilized young men' did.

"I'm sure the boys can learn," Chiron said.

"Please," Percy said suddenly, "what is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Brum-Chiron-why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

The other boy looked at the man in the wheelchair, hoping he'd get his silent message. _Please answer._

Mr. D snorted as he began to deal the cards. "I asked the same question."

He gave us a sympathetic smile and said, "Harry, Percy, did your families tell you anything?"

Harry immediately shook his. "Nothing. Not about my magic, not about my heritage. Nothing. Ever."

Percy, on the other hand, took a longer time answering. "She said... She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep me close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

"What?", Percy asked.

He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so he did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"Orientation film?"

"No," Chiron decided. "Well, Percy. You know our friends Grover and Neville are satyrs. You know"-he pointed to the horn in the shoe box-"that you have killed the Minotaur and that Harry has managed to not get himself killed by a three-headed dog. No small feat, either, lads. What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods-the forces you call the Greek gods-are very much alive."

Harry blinked in confusion. "Didn't you call Fluffy a 'child of Ceberus' earlier?"

"Fluffy?"

"Hagrid named him Fluffy."

"... Yes... Fluffy... is most likely a child of Ceberus who has three heads, like its father."

"Oh."

Silence. And then, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!"

"Mr. D," the boy next to Neville asked timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

He bit into half the can and gave the rest to Neville, who nibbled on the edges. "Wait," Percy told Chiron. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God?"

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God-capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about-"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?"

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class."

"Zeus, Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

"Who?", asked Harry, befuddled.

Thunder then sounded in the distance.

"Young man," said Mr. D while completely ignoring the boy, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."

"But they're stories," he argued. "They're myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"But there's magic too," added Harry.

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson what will people think of your 'sci-ence' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals-they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

Harry wondered why had said 'mortal'. Maybe, he also had a Philospher's Stone and came from the beginning of time. Perhaps he didn't like the way the world is changing and looked down at every other human, thinking they were nothing compared to him. Yeah. That sounded right.

"Percy, and you, too, Harry," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," Percy answered.

"Exactly," Chiron agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"

Those last words made him feel a sudden wave of compassion and pity towards the older boy. He'd never met his mom but he wished he had. Harry couldn't imaagine what it'd be like if he'd known his parents well and suddenly they were dead. "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods," Percy muttered.

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

The other boy said, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe.''

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, getting a look of disbelief from Percy and Harry. Harry had soon come to belief that magic had almost no limits, so it wasn't the appearing goblet that surprised him, it was the fact that he had no wand. Then the goblet filled itself with red wine.

"You don't have a wand," Harry said, staring at the goblet.

"I'm not a wizard, young man," he growled, "Therefore, I don't need one."

The word wand seemed to serve as a trigger for his brain. He reached into his pocket to find his trusty wand still inside, which made him relax. "Mr. D," Chiron warned, "your restrictions."

Mr. D looked at the wine and faked his surprise. "Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

Thunder roared in the distance. Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game. Chiron winked at me. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph?", asked Harry. "What's a wood nymph?"

"I'm sure your friend Hermione can explain," the man said with a smile, gesturing towards the cabins.

"Yes," Mr. D sighed, ignoring everyone else. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time-well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away-the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha. Absolutely unfair."

"And ...", Percy stammered, "your father is ..."

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr. D said. "I thought you taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."

"You're Dionysus, the god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr. D."

"Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

"Who?", Harry interrupted.

"The goddess of love," the other boy explained before glancing back at Dionysus/Mr. D, "You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

The camp director gave Percy a cold glare that I couldn't see but he knew immediately the look must've been terrifying thanks to Percy's petrified look and the answer to Mr. D's question being, 'no, sir.'

The camp director seem satisfied and went back to the game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The game goes to me."

He sighed and got up, both Neville and his friend staring at him nervously. "I'm tired," Mr. D said. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment. Both of you."

They both nodded warily and he turned to them. "Cabin eleven, young men. And mind your manners."

He walked off and Grover and Neville followed, miserable. Harry lowered his head guiltily, watching as his friend walked off. "Will they be okay?", he asked.

Chiron nodded. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been ... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"Mount Olympus," Percy said. "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like ... in America?"

"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

"Come now, Percy. What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know-or as I hope you know, since you passed my course-the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps-Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on-but the same forces, the same gods."

"And then they died."

Those words got Harry wondering if immortals could die. "Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not-and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either- America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

"I have a question," Harry interuppted.

"Go on."

"How did Ron, Hermione, and I get from the U.K. to... wherever we are?", Harry asked.

"Long Island Sound, young hero, and we simply carried you all here, though it was quite difficult. Luckily, Poseidon granted us safe passage."

"Oh."

"Chiron," Percy asked.

"Yes?"

"Who are you?... Who am I?"

Chiron smiled and gave them a meaningful look. "Who are you?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

The word 'chocolate' reminded him how hungry he was. Chiron rose from his wheelchair, which Harry didn't even know was possible, and the blanket fell to the ground. Suddenly, the once-handicapped man was towering above them with a horse's body attatched to a man's. "You're a centaur!"

Chiron smiled down at him. "Indeed I am."

"You aren't like the ones back at the Forbidden Forest. They didn't like humans and they kept looking at the stars and saying things like, ' _Mars is bright tonight,'_ " he added.

From where he was standing, Harry could've sworn he saw a flicker of fear shine in his eyes but quickly faded. "My cousins are strange, quite strange. Now, come, Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. Let's meet the other campers."

* * *

 **I've been wanting to do this for a while and all but I don't know how I like this chapter...**

 **A few questions for you, guys:**

 **Should I do this story in first or third pov?**

 **Should Ron be a son of Apollo or Hermes or other?**

 **Should any other Weasley kids/characters from HP be demigods and if so, who should be their godly parent?**

 **Do you like it?**

 **Yeah... so... Favorite, follow, review! ( Constructive critisim is very welcome. If you find a problem, please help me fix it/point it out)**

 **...**

 **BYE**

 **~Eagle**


	2. Chapter 2

Chiron's tour of the camp wasn't so bad. In fact, Harry quite enjoyed it. When they passed the volleyball pit, Harry spotted Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione among the orange-shirted campers. Some of them stopped their game to stare at both him and Percy. Some pointed to his scar while others pointed at the horn in the other boy's hand. Harry looked away uncomfortably. Though attention wasn't rare, he still wasn't used to it. Ron and Hermione seemed to notice this and waved, giving him a sympathetic smile. Fred and George, on the other hand, were replacing the volleyball with something other than a volleyball with another pair of twins. There were satyrs as well but all looked older and larger than Grover and Neville, who seemed to be the youngest of the satyrs, and wore orange shirts like the campers but wore no pants. They stared stared at the boys expectantly but Harry had no idea what they wanted. The tour continued and Chiron seem quite glad about giving it. The smile stayed on his face until Percy spoke up. "What's up there?"

Both the centaur and Harry followed his pointing finger and Chiron frowned. "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?"

"No, not a single living things," he said.

"Come along, boys," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see."

They headed off but Harry looked at the window near the top. He was curious why Percy asked such a question. After a minute, Chiron called. He hesitated but ran after them. The next area they visited was the strawberry patch where campers harvested them and where a satyr played some pipes. The centaur explained why they did it and how little effort it took. He also explained Mr. D's powers and restrictions. Harry then noticed a countless number of bugs scuttling away from the patch. "How do you get the bugs to leave?"

"Woodland magic," he answered gesturing towards the satyr.

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?", Percy asked Chiron. "I mean ... he was a good protector. Really."

"Neville was, too!", added Harry, "It wasn't his fault he couldn't stop us from going to get the Stone! It was our fault! We froze him!"

Chiron sighed, draping his coat across his back. "Both have big dreams. Quite big indeed. To reach they goal, they must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him or her safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that!", exclaimed Harry and Percy in unison.

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York and Neville had the Body-Bind spell placed upon him, preventing him form moving. Then there's the unfortunate ... ah ... fate of your mother, Percy, and the fact that you and your friends almost died, Harry. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you dragged him over the property line and Neville needed help bringing Harry, Hermione, and Ron here. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's and Neville's part."

Harry frowned. Maybe if Hermione hadn't put the spell on him, Neville wouldn't of gotten in trouble... but then again, they wouldn't of gotten the stone or won the house cup. Harry didn't know what to think but either way, he still felt extremely guilty. From looking at Percy, he was pretty sure the older boy was thinking the same think.

"They'll get second chances, won't they?"

Chiron winced and said in an uneasy voice, "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy, but Neville, being as young as he is, might get one. The council was not anxious to give Grover another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age..."

"How old is he?"

"Oh, twenty-eight."

"What! And he's in sixth grade?"

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy, with Neville being the rare exception. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible."

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career..."

"That's not fair," Percy insisted. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

Chiron looked away quickly, obviously not want to talk about it. "Let's move along, shall we?"

Harry eagerly wanted to let the subject drop but Percy must've loved talking about this stuff because he said, "Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

The centaur suddenly had a very Snape like look on his face in seconds and answered, "Yes, child." He paused. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now ... until we know more ... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, children. Let's see the woods."

They headed in that direction and Harry's first thought about the forest was _the Forbidden Forest._ It definitely was just as dark as the forest and probably held just as many monsters but the trees were so thick and tall, Harry wondered how old they were. Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with monsters?"

He nodded. "Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield, children?"

He simply didn't answer and the centaur said something about size. After that, the tour went on. The archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables, the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights. Though some of them sounded dangerous, Harry didn't really care. He's been through worse. Percy probably had a rather normal life so far because he kept asking questions and looking dumbfounded. Chiron showed them the mess hall and then, finally, the cabins. There were twelve cabins in total at the outskirts of the woods, overlooking the lake. They were in the shape of a U and each was unique, no two buildings the exact same, not including the numbers on the buildings. Number nine looked like a mini factory, number four looked like a garden that had somehow been turned into a house with tomato plants surrounding it and grass growing on the roof. Harry was pretty sure that cabin seven was made from sunlight since it was to bright to look at. Chiron said otherwise. They faced a large commons with a court and a number of Greek decorations. In the center of all the cabins was a stone fireplace, a young girl tending to them. The ones at the curved part of the 'U' were cabins one and two. Cabin one was larger, with large, bronze doors. Lightning bolts could be seen streaking across them. Harry didn't think much of it at first but he could've sworn he heard a call coming from the Cabin along with the strange connection he felt with the place.

He shook his head and examined the mini version of Cabin One, except this version had peacocks. "Zeus and Hera?"

"Correct," Chiron said.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

Harry couldn't help but wonder why. When Percy looked into Cabin Three, a beach/sea/ocean themed cabin, Harry was tempted t look into Cabin One but went against it. We went on to the next cabin, Cabin Five. It was a bloody-red color and looked like a war zone. Barbed wires lined the roof and a stuffed boar's head had been put just above the doorway, its beady eyes shining with a weird, angry glow. Harry shuddered. Inside the cabin were big, bulky kids of all ages and genders fighting each other, making the place look even more like a war zone. Though their screams were loud enough to break his eardrums, the rock music that was playing was even louder and Harry covered his ears because of it.

The tour, of course, went on. Percy soon pointed out that Chiron was the only centaur. "No," Chiron said sadly. "My kinsmen are wild and barbaric folks, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

Harry was easily reminded of Firenze, the centaur who had helped him though he had risked exile from his herd. Firenze was wild, but not barbaric, unlike the rest of his herd. "You said your name was Chiron. Are you really ..."

He smiled down at Percy. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?"

That sounded rather harsh.

Chiron paused. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

"So you're immortal?", Harry asked.

"Technically speaking, yes. I am immortal."

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."

"Why depressing?"

He didn't seem to hear and a forced smile appeared on his face. "Oh, look. Annabeth is waiting for us."

* * *

The girl from the house, Annabeth, was at Cabin Eleven, a book in her hands. When we approached, she seemed to be examining the both of them quite closely. Annabeth glanced at Chiron, as if waiting for orders. "Annabeth, I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Harry and Percy from here?"

"Yes, sir," she answered dutifully even though from the look of her face, Harry could tell she had better things to do other than babysit two newbies.

Chiron than looked at the boys and gestured towards the cabin. "Cabin Eleven. Make yourselves at home."

Harry peered at the cabin, noticing how old it looked. With the paint peeling and the dust that was evident in the air, it seemed like the Cabin had been there forever. Above the doorway was a winged pole with two snakes coiling around it. The inside was no better. There were so many kids that there weren't enough bunks with sleeping bags spread across the floor. The place was also an absolute mess. All the kids spotted Chiron and bowed as if he was their king.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, boys. I'll see you at dinner."

With those last words he galloped away. Harry watched him go but then Annabeth nudged him forward, causing him to almost trip. Some of the kids snickered. He blushed and glanced at Percy who was sprawled across the floor, his face red with embarrassment. He stood up and Annabeth said, "Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

Harry blinked in confusion and thankfully, Annabeth answered for them. "Both are undetermined."

Half of the cabin groaned. The oldest guy, a blonde teen of around nineteen years with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward, the twins glancing over his shoulder with goofy grins. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy and Harry. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there, Percy. And you, Harry, can have some fun with the twins," he said, gesturing towards the redheads, "They speak quite highly of you and of that..." He paused, glancing at them. "A toilet seat? Right? Yes, of that toilet seat they tried to send you."

Harry fiddled with fingers, embarrassed. "This is Luke," Annabeth introduced, "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?", asked both Harry and Percy.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

"Makes sense," he quipped, following the twins who showed him an empty spot next to their bunk. Harry thanked them and they simply smirked back.

"How long will I be here?", Percy asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed but he didn't seem to understand. "Come on, boys," Annabeth growled, "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"We've already seen it," said Harry.

She glared and stalked towards the eleven-year old and dragged him and Percy outside, laughs coming from the cabin. Once they had both stumbled around at least a hundred times, she said, "Jackson, you got to do better than that and you, Potter, you better not get attached to those twins. Idiots they are."

Harry frowned. "What are you talking about?", he asked while Percy simply asked, "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe I thought one of you might've been the one."

Harry stared at her in confusion while Percy snapped at Annabeth. "What's your problem? All I know is, I kill some bull guy-"

Just as he was going to lunge at the blonde, he grabbed the back of the older boy's shirt, causing him to glare at Harry. "Don't talk like that!", Annabeth snapped back. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

"Look, if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories ..."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So ..."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they reform."

"You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword-"

"The Fur ... I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

"You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" Harry hadn't noticed that. Sure enough, lightning and thunder roaring and flashing in the distance. "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

When Percy pointed to the empty cabins, Annabeth turned pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or ... your parent."

Silence.

"My parents are James and Lily Potter, who were murdered by Voldemort when I was one. They are both dead and one of them can't be a god," Harry said, causing both of them to look at him as if they forgot he was there. He didn't blame him. He hadn't spoken.

"I'm sorry about your parents, Harry, and your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad... And your _real_ godly parent, Harry."

"My dad's dead. I never knew him."

Annabeth sighed, "Your father's not dead, Percy."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say-"

"Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us. Both of you are."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them. And you, Harry, have been abused, verbally and physically, by a family member and are treated like a slave."

Harry couldn't speak, clearly dumbfounded. Was it his bruises?

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

"Just ADHD," Harry cut in.

She glared at him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD-you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battle-field reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like ... you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're a halfblood."

"I feel so much better," muttered Harry.

"Well! Newbies!"

Harry turned around abruptly to see a big, bulky girl around two years older with stringy brown hair than himself was strutting towards them with three of her supposed siblings. "Clarisse," she sighed, "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said, sneering. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

'' _Go to the crows_!", she growled. It took Harry a minute to realize that she'd just cursed a whole other language. "You don't stand a chance!"

"We'll pulverize," she growled, sounding rather confident. Then she turned to both Percy and Harry, her eyes switching between them. "Who're these runts?"

The blonde glanced at them and sighed. "Percy Jackson and Harry Potter, meet Clarisse, daughter of Ares."

"Like... the war god?", Percy asked.

She sneered. "Got a problem with that, runts?"

"No," Harry said in a brave sort of voice. She was like Draco and Dudley and any other bully. Harry knew what to do with them. "It explains your strange need to strangle someone. Have you ever tried to strangle yourself?"

She growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Hair. And I think Prissy will be coming along, too."

"It's Harry."

"Percy."

"Whatever. Come one, I'll show you."

Annabeth started to say something but Clarisse cut her off. The blonde had a slightly pained look in her intelligent gray eyes but she stayed quiet anyway. Percy gave her the horn and then they were being dragged away by Miss Iron Fists. They approached a cinder-colored building and Dudley's words had suddenly come true. _"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall."_

They were in the girls bathroom. Harry struggled against Clarisse's strong grip but it was no use. They were all laughing and snickering. "Like they're 'Big Three' material," she laughed as she threw Harry towards her friend who was pushing him towards a toilet. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking. And this kid? I doubt he could hurt a fly."

Clarisse's friend shoved Harry's small head towards the bowl. Poor Harry used practically all his strength to get an inch away from the rim and the girl above him was smirking with amusement. "Poor little kid," she sneered, "How did he even become _famous?_ "

That got Harry. He didn't care much about his fame but he did care about being insulted. He imagined it was the spoiled brat, Draco, above him, his gray eyes glistening. He felt the sudden urge to punch this lady in the face and the lights seemed to reacting to his anger, flickering on and off, sparks flying everywhere. The next thing he knew, a loud 'ow' sounded from behind him and Clarisse's friend was on the floor, her eyes wide with confusion and anger. The light above them had also turned off. After that? Everyone was soaked with toilet water. How? He had no clue. Harry had been knocked onto the floor as well and when he stumbled out of the toilet stall, he spotted Percy in a circle of dry land, not a single speck of water on him. "What the bloody hell happened?", Harry gaped, wincing at his choice of words. _I need to stop copying Ron._

He stayed silent and stared at Harry, looking equally surprised. "What?"

"Wh-", he cut himself off and gestured towards him. "Sparks."

Harry didn't understand and looked at his soaked hands. Even though his eyesight was fogged because of his wet glasses, he could see blueish and orangeish lights flying off of his hands. Eventually they faded but Annabeth and Percy's shock didn't seem to. "How did you...?", she stuttered, looking between both of them.

Harry shook his head and walked out, Percy stumbling behind him and Annabeth. Outside, in a pile of mud, Clarisse and her bullying sisters were sprawled on the floor covered from head to toe in mud and toilet water. If it was even possible, they all looked uglier and smelled even worse. Others were gathering around to gawk and snicker at them. When the brunette noticed them she looked like she'd explode from hatred. "You are both dead, newbies. Deader than dead."

"You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth."

Harry smiled at Percy as Clarisse was being dragged away and said, "You're not so bad."

"And now you notice?", he snorted, "Do you have to, like, humiliate the world's biggest bully to earn some respect in England?"

He rolled his eyes and laughed. It was nice when he made friends instead of enemies. Then Annabeth cut in. "I want you both on my team for capture flag, idiots or not."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I am not Rick Riordan and I am not JK Rowling. I do not own any characters except for the ones I make up.**

* * *

The news of the bathroom of incident must've spread like a wildfire because _everyone_ was talking about it, pointing at Percy and talking about toilet water as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. They also looked at Annabeth and Harry, who were both still dripping wet, like they were proof that the most amazing thing happened, which, basically, they were. Annabeth showed them newbies a few more places like the metal shop, the arts-and-crafts room, and the most dangerous of them all, the climbing wall. The climbing wall was technically two walls that sprayed lava and it had mini earthquakes. After a while, she lead us back to the cabins and said, "I've got training to do. Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."

"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets," Percy apologized.

"Whatever."

"It wasn't my fault."

She stared at him and Harry understood why. I _was_ Percy's fault. Not his, not Clarisse's, not anyone else's. All Harry did was shock some bully and electrify the water. How he did that? Again, he had no idea.

"You two need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said.

"Who?"

"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."

"How can we talk to something that's not a who?"

"You'll see, Harry."

Harry sighed as the others had another talk about naiads.

"Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us."

"What about Hogwarts?"

"Wizarding school isn't the world's safest place, Harry."

"You mean, mentally disturbed kids? I mean, wizards don't exist and if so why hasn't he done magic yet? He has to be crazy."

"I'm offended," frowned Harry, "I can't do magic outside of school."

"I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human."

"Half-human and half-what?"

"I think you know."

"God. Half-god."

"Your father isn't dead, Percy. Neither is yours, Harry. They're one of the Olympians."

"That's ... crazy."

"Even crazier than having a giant break down the door and telling your a wizard? No, but just as crazy," Harry agreed.

Percy gave him the craziest look ever but didn't comment. "Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?"

"But those are just- But if all the kids here are half-gods-"

"Demigods," Annabeth said. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods."

"Then who's your dad?"

Her stormy eyes turned even darker as if a lightning storm was happening in her head. "My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history."

"He's human."

"What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?"

"Who's your mom, then?"

"Cabin six."

"Meaning?"

"Athena, goddess of wisdom and battle. My siblings include Hermione, Malcom, and about a dozen other campers."

That explained Hermione's love for books and her impeccable memory when it came to facts and the exact word in whatever book she read.

"And our dad?"

"Undetermined," Annabeth said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows."

"Except my mother. She knew."

"Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities."

"My dad would have. He loved her."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens."

"You mean sometimes it doesn't?"

"The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always ... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us."

"So I'm stuck here," Percy said. "That's it? For the rest of my life?"

Harry frowned. He didn't want to be stuck here. "It depends," Annabeth said. "Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble-about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that."

"That's reassuring, Annabeth."

"So monsters can't get in here?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Not unless they're intententionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside."

"Why would anybody want to summon a monster?"

"Practice fights. Practical jokes."

"Practical jokes?"

"That's just cruel," Harry remarked.

"The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm."

"So ... you're a year-rounder?"

Anabeth nodded and pulled a leather necklace with five beads and a golden ring on it. "I've been here since I was seven," she said. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college."

"Why did you come so young?"

Her fingers seemed to instinctively begin to twist her ring. "None of your business."

"Oh."

Silence.

"So ... I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?"

"It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission. But they wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless ..."

"Unless?"

"You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever hap-pens. The last time ..."

"Something bad happened?", Harry guessed.

"Back in the sick room," Percy said, "when you were feeding me that stuff-"

"Ambrosia."

"Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice."

Annabeth tensed. "So you do know something?"

"Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?"

"I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal."

"You've been to Olympus?"

"Some of us year-rounders-Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others-we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council."

"But... how did you get there?"

"The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She looked at him expectantly. "You are a New Yorker, right?"

"Oh, sure."

"Right after we visited," Annabeth continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping ... I mean- Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something."

"I've got to get a quest," Annabeth muttered to herself. "I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem..."

The smell of barbecue got Harry's attention. "I'm starving," he muttered.

Percy agreed and they walked back to Cabin Eleven. The entire Cabin was laughing and goofing around, playing pranks on each other. Percy invited Harry over to his spot and they sat down together. Luke walked over to them, the smile Harry had seen so many times on the twins' faces was visible. He could really see the family resemblance. "Found you both a sleeping bag," he said, "And here, some toiletries stolen from the camp store."

Harry also saw it in their personalities.

"Thanks, Luke."

"No prob, boys," he said lazily, leaning against the wall. "Tough first day?"

"I don't belong here," he said. "I don't even believe in gods."

"By now, nothing surprises me," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," he said with a bitter tone. "That's how we all started. Once you start believing in them? It doesn't get any easier."

"So your dad is Hermes?"

He grabbed a switchblade and began scraping mud off of his sandals. "Yeah. Hermes."

"The wing-footed messenger guy."

"That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors."

"Oh."

"You ever meet your dad?"

"Once."

There was silence and Harry figured that Luke didn't like the subject. "Don't worry about it. The campers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're extended family, right? We take care of each other."

"Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about us being 'Big Three' material. Then Annabeth ... twice, she said we might be 'the one.' She said Harry and I should talk to the Oracle. What was that all about?"

"I hate prophecies."

"What do you mean?"

"There are prophesies, too?"

"Let's just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until... somebody special came to the camp."

"Somebody special?"

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it, kids," Luke said. "Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for. Now, come on, it's dinnertime."

As if on cue, horns blew in the distance. "Eleven, fall in!"

The entire cabin ran out into the yard, around twenty people in total, and lined in order of how old they were, so of course Harry was last. Other cabins were also walking out, except the empty ones. Satyrs and other children and adults walked out of the forest to join them and they all started to the pavilion. Torches revealed twelve tables for each cabin with white cloth with purple trim. Four tables were empty and most weren't very crowded. Eleven however was way to overcrowded with too little room. All the stayrs including Grover and Neville were sitting with Mr. D at Table Twelve. Chiron stood, too big to sit at a table. Annabeth and Hermione were sitting at table six, Hermione's curly, brown hair easy to spot in the sea of blondes and Ron was sitting with Cabin Seven, also looking a bit out of place with his hard-to-miss red hair. After everyone settled down, Chiron pounded his hoof against the floor, raised and glass, and yelled, "To the gods!"

Everyone followed his example and raised their glasses. "To the gods!"

The girls from the woods scattered with platters of all types of food that succeeded in making his mouth water. They didn't have any drinks, sadly, and Harry was thirsty. Percy must've been having the same problem because Luke said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want-nonalcoholic, of course."

"Pumpkin juice," Harry said immediately and watched as an invisible pitcher filled the glass with an orange drink.

He sipped it with and smiled. "Any non alcoholic drink possible and you choose pumpkin juice?", asked Percy.

"Is there a problem?", asked Harry, confused.

"No, British people just have weird tastes."

"Americans aren't much better," He said, gesturing towards the blue drink.

Percy rolled his eyes and drank some of it. Harry got himself some roast beef and was about to cut it when Luke called them. The two newbies exchanged confused looks and followed him. Everyone seemed to be taking the best parts of their meals and burning them in the fire. Honestly, Harry wondered if these people we're just crazy. "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell," their counselor explained.

"If they're at the Empire State Building, how can they smell it from here?", Harry asked curiously.

Luke shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Just don't take it lightly."

"Is he kidding?", muttered Percy.

"We just found out one of our parents is a god," Harry pointed out. "I'm pretty sure he wasn't kidding about that so why should he be kidding about this."

Percy shrugged. "That's a good point."

Luke finished burning some of his food and Harry walked up to the fireplace. He took some of his roast beef and pushed it into the fireplace, dedicating this roast beef to his godly parent, whoever that was. He was surprised to see how quickly it burned and how _good_ it smelled. It reminded him of Hogwarts' beginning of the year banquet and that made him homesick in a way. He reluctantly backed away and headed back to the table to eat his food. Soon, everyone returned to their seats and Chiron once again pounded his foot against the floor. They stared at him and Mr. D stood up with a sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

The kids at the Ares table cheered.

"Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have two new campers today. Peter Johnson and Harold Otter."

The centaur muttered something to him and Mr. D waved his hand dismissively. "Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

Everyone cheered and began to scramble towards the amphitheater. Ron and his other siblings of the Apollo Cabin lead the songs about the gods and life at camp and everyone joked around, laughing loudly. The s'mores were delicious, as were the marshmallows but the important thing was Harry was having fun. He felt at home, just as he did when he went to Hogwarts but this... this wasn't a strict school of magic. This was a fun with a casual environment and Harry loved it.

A few hours later, the conch horns from before blew again and Harry followed the rest of his cabin. Harry laid down in his sleeping bag, feeling exhaustion wash over him. His eyelids were suddenly heavy and he felt like he could sleep for years. "Night, Harry," quipped the twins as they got into bed.

"Night," he muttered back before he fell asleep without bothering to take his glasses off.

Harry knew he'd be happy there and worried very little. Sadly, he didn't know what he was going to get himself into.


End file.
